


Late Nights

by Velociraptorqueen



Category: Hot Streets (Cartoon)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 04:35:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15283761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velociraptorqueen/pseuds/Velociraptorqueen
Summary: Branski still manages to surprise French





	Late Nights

**Author's Note:**

> I just really love this show

French sat across from Branski in the diner, fingers tight around the table cloth. Branski’s breath was the same even rhythm as before. He was a constant unwavering force in their partnership, always there, always calm. He did not allow emotion to hold him back, not in the same foolish way French did. Sometimes it hurt to know just how much better he was than him at his job. French had his eyes fixed on the cigarette dangling from Branski’s fingers, regarding it with a mix of reverence and confusion. He did not smoke. He was a man of God. French released his grip on the table cloth, letting the bunched up material fall between his lap. He couldn’t find it within himself to question when this habit had begun, or when Branski was planning on quitting. It was dark. It was late. They hadn’t even ordered real food, just black coffee French had to put copious amounts of sugar in. Branski stared out the window, watching the rain. French reached over, inching towards his partner’s jacket sleeve. He still faltered after all these years, glancing at the white crystals stuck to the rim of his coffee cup. So many things to say, yet still stuck on the edge, still afraid. Branski turned to him for a minute, smiling like he understood. He mumbled something about it being late, something about being tired. He suggested that they leave. French nodded, the same easy acceptance and willingness to obey any command unchanging through out all of these years. His partner squeezed his hand briefly, and French felt that it was enough to calm his racing mind. Feelings generally went unspoken when it came to Branski. He left his cigarette in the ash tray at their table. French expected the car ride to be awkward, thick with unsaid sentiment, but it was strangely peaceful. Branski even bothered to say goodnight before giving him a rushed peck on the cheek. That was more than enough. 

 

 

 


End file.
